


Your Order, Please?

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: AU prompt, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Carlos is a Dork, Carlos is still a scientist though, Cecil Is Not Described, Cecil is a Dork, Cecil works at a cafe, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, cecil is high-key gay af, i'm not sure, there might be some canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 15:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when behind him, the two girls' conversation stopped abruptly. A brief pause, and his mind only came back to earth when Maureen spoke up. "Well, I got more stuff to do."He turned around to look at them as they were heading to the back room."Me too. See you later, Cecil!" Dana said, smiling at him before following the other girl. The door closed behind her.Momentarily confused at their sudden departure, half of his mind only heard the bell above the front door ring, signifying another customer. When he did turn to see who it was, Cecil swore he almost choked on his own spit. In all honesty, his mouth may have dried a little in that moment, but still, he definitely almost choked. There was no other explanation for the small sound he made in his throat.On his defense, it was ultimately justifiable....Or where Cecil experiences a less-than-normal day at work, but then a stranger comes right in to spare him the usual weirdness. Cue both of them getting flustered.





	Your Order, Please?

 

Cecil has always been able to handle a lot of strange things. Like, his life is strange. People around here are also strange, especially the ones who claim to have seen a mountain, or who smuggle in bread despite the high risk of merciless, painful death. "Strange" was practically his middle name. He thought living his whole life in little, not-so-quiet Night Vale had given him some sort of immunity against the shock of the weirder aspects of the town. Clearly, he was wrong.

Ever since he started his shift that Tuesday morning, he's been receiving more flirting/compliments/suggestive winks and eyebrow waggling than orders from the customers. Now, he brushed off the first few as mere playfulness. Then he thought the next bunch was just because he may have accidentally done something to make his hair or clothes look better. But then they just keep on coming and Cecil decides that it was getting ridiculous. The fact that it's usually busy in their shop at this time of day did not help whatsoever.

Seriously though, did he unintentionally drink aphrodisiac or something?! The only thing he had before work was coffee, and he distinctly remembered putting nothing else but sugar in it. He thoroughly checked his reflection during his break, but he looked the same as any other day.

Dana and Maureen, his co-workers, smiled innocently when he asked them for help. They told him that nothing was wrong -Cecil gawked at that point- and that perhaps he was just stressed out - _What?!_ he wanted to yell- and needed a break. So in short, Cecil was alone in this. Well, him and the twelve or so customers in the queue probably armed with more cheesy lines.

He was manning the counter today, just his luck, because two _somebodies_ didn't want to help him. As expected, the next customer, a girl with bright red hair and admittedly fabulous eyeliner, dropped some stupid line about his eyes. The least Cecil could do was give her a small smile and thanks, and then take her order. Sometimes the flirter actually had some smooth skills, and their shameless lines would leave the flirtee (aka poor Cecil) blushing and stuttering, much to his embarrassment.

Honestly. Two and a half hours into his shift and he can't wait for it to end already.

It was in the later part of the day, when there were much less customers trickling in, that Cecil was able to catch a well-earned break.

"Dana, I'm telling you, the people must be under some sort of spell," the barista whispered, mindful of the customer sitting nearby. "Haven't you noticed? At least a little bit?"

The girl in question suppressed a giggle before replying. "Cecil, please. It's just typical Night Vale behavior, right?"

"This hasn't happened before!" he said, affronted. Pettily, he admits, but he's too bothered by this strange phenomenon to care.

"You're acting like they suggested they spear you on the spot," came Maureen's dry remark. She emerged from the back room, coming to sit on stool next to them. "It's not that bad."

Cecil can't decide between scoffing and crying. Instead, he just makes a disgruntled voice at the back of his throat, propping his elbows on the counter to rest his chin on them. It's just been a long day, he surmised. Between all the attention and the obvious glee of his co-workers at his discomfort, it really was just a typical day. It was productive, he kept himself busy, and he honestly enjoyed his job, even if it was a bit of a handful at times. There was always something about the loud chattering, the overall cheery and casual atmosphere, and the scent of freshly made food that soothes his nerve the moment the day begins. Yes, he could last this day...

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when behind him, the two girls' conversation stopped abruptly. A brief pause, and his mind only came back to earth when Maureen spoke up. "Well, I got more stuff to do."

He turned around to look at them as they were heading to the back room.

"Me too. See you later, Cecil!" Dana said, smiling at him before following the other girl. The door closed behind her.

Momentarily confused at their sudden departure, half of his mind only heard the bell above the front door ring, signifying another customer. When he did turn to see who it was, Cecil swore he almost choked on his own spit. In all honesty, his mouth may have dried a little in that moment, but still, he definitely almost choked. There was no other explanation for the small sound he made in his throat.

On his defense, it was ultimately justifiable.

There, standing just at the door, was a gorgeous man Cecil definitely hasn't seen around here before. Anyone who looked like him would have caught his eye, after all. And caught his eye, he did. The stranger seemed more or less as the same age as him, with dark, creamy caramel skin. His dark hair was leaning on shaggy, the tips curling up and giving the whole, casual messy-cute style, but it still somehow seemed neat, the strands near his face pushed back almost carelessly. The look suited him, Cecil instantly decides.

He doesn't know how long he's been staring at the man, because next thing he knows, the stranger's already walking towards the counter, towards _Cecil_. The dazed barista only had a second to close his mouth ( _Oh my god, was I staring at him with my mouth hanging?_ ) and bolt upright in his seat before the man stopped in front of him. Though Cecil was positively sure his face resembled a tomato at this point, the man only gave him a soft smile, his eyes holding a spark of amusement. That alone was enough to make Cecil's heart thud a more erratic beat. Just what is it with this guy?

"Good morning, what can I get for you?" Cecil asks, his surprisingly calm tone betraying his inner state. Up close, he can now say that he's taller than the man, maybe by an inch or two. There's a touch of gray hair near his temples that wasn't all that noticeable from afar. And his eyes... Cecil could only think of cinnamon and rich mocha when he looked into them. There were lines under them, lines made from smiling a lot, and Cecil couldn't help but indulge himself a bit more with the warm color.

It was only then that he noticed that the man was quiet, a crooked smile on his lips and an eyebrow raised in what seemed like curiosity rather than annoyance. The man looked thoroughly amused now. It was with a flush creeping up his neck that Cecil realized he had said something.

Way to go, Cecil. Completely miss what the gorgeous person just said by staring dreamily into their eyes. Smooth.

Swallowing, he sent the customer a sheepish smile in return. "Um, I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?" he asked meekly. The stranger tilted his head to the side and regarded him curiously once more. Cecil noticed how the bright sunlight and the view out the large glass window behind him was some sort of picturesque background, complimenting his features. No, more like they direct his attention more to the man, if that were possible.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Cecil was once more brought back down to earth by the man's voice. _Oaky, smooth_ , he noted immediately.

"I- yes, I'm fine," he said, managing to send a reassuring smile. "It's been a long day. It has been long all morn- I mean, busy! It's been busy all morning. Hectic, actually. You wouldn't believe it." He gave a short, nervous laugh, which almost made himself wince at how absolutely fake it sounded. He's pretty sure the man noticed it as well.

Can he just please think straight today? At least once?

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome ( _that’s not straight, Cecil,_ he chided himself) chuckled.

“I suppose so. I mean, this coffee shop was recommended to me by a local. He said this was the best spot around here.” Mr. TDH casually propped an elbow on the counter and placed his chin on his hand, still looking at Cecil.

“I’m new to Night Vale, you see,” he continues.

“I’ve noticed.” Cecil absentmindedly fiddles with his sharpie, looking at it instead of the man. “You’re the kind of guy I’d remember if I’d seen you here before.”

A beat passes. Suddenly what Cecil just said finally caught up with him, and he tore his eyes away from the marker in his hands and up into the dark eyes that were looking at him with… dare he say interest? Because the man looked at him like Cecil just gave him a bouquet of fresh roses. Which he does not have the courage to do, by the way. For now.

Desperate for a change of topic, Cecil blurts out, “So what made you move here?”

The other man blinked. “Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re here to, ah, investigate this town. I mean, we were on a kind of research expedition out on the desert, where we began picking up these weird signals on our equipment. We followed it and…” He shrugged, gesturing around himself.

Cecil leans in. “You said something about `we’? And a research expedition?”

“Oh, yes, well. We’re a research team from the University of What It Is, you see. We were sent to study this place. Or at least, I think this is the place.” He chuckled awkwardly, looking around at the rest of the cafe.

“It must be though, because this is really the most scientifically interesting community I’ve ever seen.” He turned his attention back on Cecil, and the barista is once again hit with that warm, fluttery feeling in his stomach. “I’m glad we got that assignment, you know.” The enthusiasm in his eyes seemed to say it all.

“Yeah?” Cecil said, still gazing fondly at the man.

The scientist began rambling about all his fascinating discoveries so far, and Cecil listened, half paying attention to what he said and half admiring the cute dork in front of him. Cecil has only ever met a handful of people who weren’t original residents of Night Vale, and they never seemed that passionate about the town at first. This guy (who has only stayed here for four days, he learns) seemed more or less willing to explore every unnaturally glowing hazard areas in the name of science.  

 “No, no, they were really freaked out when we first came here, you know?” the man said.” Their conversation has somehow shifted to his team of scientists that, according to him, was currently busy in their lab.

Cecil hummed. “I suppose that’s understandable.”

“It is.” The scientist rolled his eyes, exasperated, to which Cecil sends a cheeky grin in reply.

“Alright, alright, I know that it gets overwhelming, but trust me when I tell you you’ll get used to it.”

The man’s lips part just a fraction, before curling up in that soft smile again. “Cecil.”

Oh. Between the fact that he knows his name and the sudden shift in tone, Cecil’s knees nearly buckled.

“Cecil, I was wondering.” The man reaches up to rub the back of his neck, looking a bit shy. “You know, since I’m still new here, I could use someone who knows their way around Night Vale. Just, places, you know? Neighborhoods, restaurants, where to hang out. And I guess my job requires me to get to know the town too. So, I don’t know, if you’re maybe willing…?”

Cecil may just look shocked (and perhaps pleased) on the outside, but a thousand alarm bells were ringing in his head, sounding like something along the lines of _AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_

“Yes,” he said, his voice oddly a pitch higher than usual. “Yes, okay. I- I’d love to!”

Cecil doesn’t exactly know what he’s getting himself into, but the way the shy look on the guy’s face turns into a full on grin makes him forget why he bothers with that.

Then the barista realized something, after having had a long conversation with the man. “Hey,” he says. “I still haven’t gotten your name.”

The man is still beaming when he answers, “Carlos.”

“Carlos,” Cecil murmured, tasting the name on his tongue. Then he shook his head.

“Well, Carlos, I’d love to show you around, but for now-“ he made a quick glance at the rest of the shop –“let’s get you something. What was your order again?”

Carlos rolls his eyes, not unkindly. “If you’ve been paying attention, I asked what you’d recommend for me,” he teased.

Cecil feels the blush coming up, and he quickly hides it behind a cough. “Right. Well. How about some regular ol’ coffee then?”

Carlos hummed, and Cecil turns to work on the order. He wonders idly about how long the two of them had been conversing and whether or not the other customers noticed it. Or his co-workers. Oh, god forbid… they would never let him hear the end of it. Though what the proper name for “it” is, Cecil isn’t sure.

Cecil is halfway done with the coffee when he adds over his shoulder, “You could try today’s special too, if you like.”

He wasn’t met with an immediate response. Perhaps Carlos didn’t hear him then.

Cecil finishes making the order by putting on the lid and walking back to the counter, where, to his surprise, he finds Carlos blushing and writing something on a piece of napkin. Curious, but not wanting to interrupt, he waits until the other man is finished before sliding his cup near him. Carlos was quick to snatch the paper away before Cecil could get a good look at it.

He wordlessly payed for his coffee and Cecil is baffled. Did he do something wrong? Is it because Carlos didn’t like coffee after all, and just accepted it out of being polite? The fact that Carlos’ face was flushed didn’t help at all, even if Cecil found it adorable.

Cecil shook his head again. “Er, hang on, Carlos, I forgot today’s special.”

If it were possible, Carlos blushed a deeper shade of red. He sent a shy smile at Cecil, who can’t even begin to process all this, and placed the napkin on the counter before jerking his hand away.

“So, um, there. Special. I guess it’ll, um, come in handy when you would finally show me around town, and you know. I mean, no. Not like, no, uh-“

The man continues to stammer, edging away and finally turning to leave with nothing but a hasty, “Bye, Cecil!” before he was out the door.

Cecil stares after him for a moment, more than baffled. Then his eyes drifted down to the note. Nothing else was scribbled there except for a phone number and “Carlos” written below it in a neat handwriting.

He had to read it a couple of times before he accepted the fact that, yes, the gorgeous stranger just gave him his number.

If that’s not a valid enough reason for why he gave an impressively high pitched squeal then, he doesn’t know what is.

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh, Dana. Can you believe it?” Cecil sat down on an empty chair, sighing, a lazy smile on his lips. He turned to face his two co-workers, who were doing the usual routine at the end of the day: wiping tables, sweeping the floor, and doing the last batch of dishes, not necessarily in that order.

“I mean, at first I was kind of awkward, you know? Like, he came in here with his-“

“Perfect hair and perfect face!” cut in Maureen from behind the cash register. She dramatically placed a hand on her forehead, pursing her lips and pretending to stare dreamily at the air. Dana snorted from somewhere behind Cecil.

Cecil pouted. “Ha ha, but you wouldn’t be saying that if you saw him,” he said, crossing his arms. Dana came up and took the seat next to him. She grinned.

“We did, actually.” She flicked a strand of hair out of her face and proceeded to look cheekily at her co-worker. Cecil’s eyebrows went up in surprise at her statement.

“Did you? “ He paused. “Oh, let me guess. You were eavesdropping.”

“Yup,” Maureen said, drawing out the sound and popping the _p_ at the end.

Cecil doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed or exasperated. Though he supposes that this would be typical behavior for the two, especially if paired up. And if they did see that whole sort-of-embarrassing-fiasco-but-not-really, then that means…

“Alright!” Cecil exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Help me, you two. I need your opinions on this. I have to know what that was all about.” He stood up and started pacing, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

Dana raised an eyebrow. “Help you with Carlos?”

At the same time, Maureen deadpanned, “Gee, Cecil. I’d think that he was interested in you, you know, with him giving you his number and whatnot.”

Cecil sent a pout her way and continued pacing.

“Maureen,” Dana chastised. Then she turned to look back at Cecil. “So.”

Cecil paused in his tracks, contemplating. Maureen was right. Well, it was pretty obvious, he admits, but a little part of Cecil is still in denial that the whole thing actually happened. That he will, in fact, be meeting with the cute scientist sometime. Soon, he hopes. And speaking of contacting him…

 “Why _did_ Carlos give me his number…” he said slowly. “I didn’t ask him- I never asked him, right?”

He turns and sees both girls locked in some sort of staring contest with each other, Maureen keeping her face straight and Dana quirking a corner of her mouth. He looked back and forth at them, confused, before the two focused on him again.

Cecil ignores what just happened and was about to continue speaking, but then Maureen held a hand up to silence him. She came over to where he stood and dragged him to the door by the arm, making a _tsk tsk_ sound. “You poor child.”

Dana called out from behind them. “Maureen, come on!”

Cecil was confused once again, but then the girl pointed at the sign they put outside their café, telling customers what they have in store that day. Instead of that though, it read:

 

_Today your barista is:_

  1. _Hella fucking gay_
  2. _Desperately single_



_For your drink today, I recommend:_

_You give me your number_

 

Just like with the napkin Carlos left him, Cecil had to reread it. Then reread it again, as many times as it takes for his brain to accept what it was seeing. Then he hid his already warm face in his hands, drawing out a long, muffled groan.

While Dana burst into laughter from inside, Maureen slung an arm around him, patting his shoulder. “It was worth it though, right?”

Cecil could only answer her with more groaning and blushing.

 


End file.
